Like Cinderella
by RedHairedMermaid
Summary: We all know Cinderella right? Well this time she isn't blond, but a dark haired woman named Tifa. Final Fantasy characters added to an age old fairy tale. That's about it, all that I can think to put in a summary anyway. R&R.
1. Prologue

**I decided to do a combination of the classic fairy tale, Cinderella and the characters from Final Fantasy 7. The basic story line of Cinderella is the same, but I have added some differences to make the story my own and to try and keep the characters relatively like themselves in the game. I'm not about to let Tifa become weak and a damsel in distress.**

**I am deliberately making the time period mildly ambiguous because I don't really want to commit to having it in a historical setting or a modern one, in case I want to use an idea. I'm keeping my options open basically and I'm trying to write it so that the period doesn't actually matter.**

**DISCLAIMER: I give credit to the makers of the Disney film, as some of the ideas appear in the story, and so are not mine. Also I do not own the Cinderella concept or any characters from Final Fantasy. The song title 'Like Cinderella' is from a song by 'The Cheetah Girls'.**

**Please review so I can know what you think, and also constructive criticism is welcome.**

**Well that's about it, enjoy the story!**

Like Cinderella

Prologue:

How simple does life seem to be when you are young? The future is riddled with dreams, romance and exciting adventures. Even as we grow up and pretend to forget about such wild fancies we entertained as children they remain with us. Hidden in the dark recesses of the mind, appearing only at night when we are asleep, when our defences are lowered and the world of fancy is free to roam.

Mine remained with me. Every night as I feel my eyelids become heavy I knew that a different world awaited behind my lids. However accompanying this blissful state is the knowledge that it will become harder to wake up the next morning and leave my dreams behind.

I never told a soul. That is one thing you must never do when it comes to dreams; utter them. Of course you can but you are jinxing your own ability to have them. For if your dreams are heard by another they are gone forever, broken into pieces as they hit the air of reality. That is why I never speak mine.

I know they exist though. Somewhere out in that town, my dreams are hiding in shadowed corners, occasionally peeking out to reassert their existence. I spotted one once, walking through the streets. It was only a glimpse, as I have said, to reassure me they are there but it was enough. Just enough to catch a quick peek at the figure that invaded my dreams, the eyes that drew me too look beside me as I woke and the hair that had me twirling my own in the morning. I knew he was there.

Dreams after all, if catered for properly are never further than round the corner …

**RHM**


	2. Chapter One

**DISCLAIMER: I give credit to the makers of the Disney film, as some of the ideas appear in the story, and so are not mine. Also I do not own the Cinderella concept or any characters from Final Fantasy. The song title 'Like Cinderella' is from a song by 'The Cheetah Girls'.**

**On with the story! **

**Enjoy.**

Chapter One:

A chill crept in through the wooden rafters. A frost had settled overnight covering the town in a silver sheet, invisible except when the heatless sun cast its rays upon the ground. The silver surface abruptly met with a crisp blue sky, the clearness of the air, that fresh type which is only present after the heavens have opened. The day was one of deception. Upon looking out of a window, with the clear sky and bright sun, one would expect the day to be one of warmth. The reality however held quite the opposite. Exiting outdoors without gloves on would prove painful to bare fingers, which would become numb within minutes.

Days such as these would add a challenge to getting out of bed. The cold would hang around my room like a heavy cloak. The blanket that covered my body, heated through the night as I slept, was the only thing protecting me from the sting of cold. Every now and then days would arrive when I believed that the world was against me. Today, when my mind begged me to return to the world of sleep and the chilly air was waiting to freeze my blood, was such a day. Even Mother Nature appeared to be taking a pop at me.

The bell which had woken me jingled again, this time with more vigour. The person at the other end was evidently becoming impatient, an assumption that was confirmed upon the cry of a voice from below me,

"Tifa, breakfast! Stop being so lazy girl."

I groaned. It was the same groan I uttered every morning, but it still managed to make me feel better each time it escaped my lips. Just that one moment when I let the morning know, I am not impressed.

A second bell rang and I slammed my fists down on my mattress,

"Alright!"

In a bought of frustration at being summoned I threw off my blanket and swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing up, the cold hitting me like a hammer as I did. Even my skin covered by my shift erupted in goose bumps,

"Holy – "

Preventing the next word from being uttered I bit the tip of my tongue. I ran my hands up and down my arms vigorously, attempting to re-establish some warmth. Continuing this action I picked up my dressing gown. It was also made from thin linen, not much use against the biting cold, but it was better than nothing. Slippers came next, protecting my feet against the frost bitten floor boards.

My door was being eaten away by bugs, the corners crumbling away at their progress and making it impossible for the door to fit properly against the frame. As a result the latch did not connect with the gap in the door frame and I had to rest a small piece of wood between door and frame, otherwise I would lock myself in. It had happened once before and I had to claw at cracks in the door with my fingernails to prise the door open. Thankfully I had learnt quickly to learn from my mistakes. In a house where any move I made was waiting to be penalised by the wicked witch and her minions I can only afford to make a mistake once, if ever.

Upon leaving I noticed that a small puddle had formed on the floor by the door. A continuous drip emerged from above my head; a last reminder of the rain from the night. I gave the puddle my best roll of the eyes that I could muster. Right now I had my regular duties to attend to. That little annoyance would have to wait.

Propping the door open with the piece of wood I set off downstairs, taking no pains to disguise my heavy steps. I descended with the sound of bells following me in my wake.

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The kitchen held a large stove, a thick, black furnace pipe leading up from the fire chamber and exiting at the top to display the contents of smoke and cooked fat smell out to the rest of the town. Heat radiated from the stove and the kitchen held none of the problems of lack of heat that were so evident in my own room.

I had earlier discarded my dressing gown in favour of the heat growing in the kitchen. It may have been indecent to cook with so little covering on my body, but it was my kitchen, so I did it anyway. Besides it wasn't as though any of the other residents of the house would be entering an area defined as a 'servant's domain' any time soon. I was actually thankful of their narrow-minded and bourgeois view as it meant the kitchen was my domain, a place of solitude for me. That and it also provided me to speak a silent defiance by cooking their bacon with sweat on my brow.

China plates were laid out on the mahogany table. The dark wood was spread around the kitchen in forms of chests, shelves and tables. The kitchen was at the back of the house in the basement. Because of this location there was only a small window at the top of the wall and the sun rose at the front of the house so during the morning I had to use lamps as my main source of light.

The light from the lamps cast an orange glow across the kitchen. Shadows were thrown along the walls; elongated shapes of cups that hung on wooden hooks from the shelves.

I lifted the pan over to the table, the bacon spitting at me all the while. A small spat of grease landed on my arm causing a small area of skin to burn. I frowned at the brief spout of pain but it soon passed. Needless to say it was not the first time I had been burnt by hot fat.

The kitchen was still stifling hot and I wished I had opened the small window. Looking up at said window I found myself slipping into an all too familiar day dream.

One day, long before I become slave to my sister and my father was still alive me and him were sat on the steps that led down to the garden. It was a similar type of day with a bright sun, except in that memory the sun had given us warmth. My father had given me a yellow rose that day saying that I was his sunshine and lit up his life …

"_What about Scarlet?"_

"_I love Scarlet too, very much, but you are my biological daughter, and you know what that means?"_

"_No."_

"_It means that you and I share a bond. It's a special type of bond, one that you can't see."_

"_But if you can't see it, how do you know that it's there?"_

"_You can feel it. In here, in your heart. The stronger your heart becomes, the more I will always be a part of you."_

"_Will it always be there?"_

"_Yes, a bond of love never breaks Tifa."_

"_A love bond? I will catch it one day, and tie it in a knot to strengthen it. Then no matter it will never, never break"_

… That damn bell! My wet eyes turned to look at the door to the kitchen, the bolt un-thrown to allow me easy access out. I could hear the faint sound of the bells echoing from the dining room. I knew I would be in trouble from my older sister for taking too long, but the fact was yet to bother me as my thoughts lingered on the old memory that had just resurfaced. I remained stood still until the one tear which had held on my lashes dropped down my pale cheek.

Swallowing the lump in my throat I turned once again to my task. The show must go on, and it was time for me to place on my mask. The bacon was no longer hot and instead had begun to turn the cool side of warm. Another scolding would be added to the list, and I anticipated already that it would be a long day. Night appeared to be further away that the horizon and I felt my strengthened heart wilt. This though I only allowed for a moment. The mask was on.

All too soon I was carrying three trays; one in each hand and one resting on my right forearm. Using the wall to balance my back on I shimmied the door open with my slippered foot. Feeding time had commenced.

**RHM**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I give credit to the makers of the Disney film, as some of the ideas appear in the story, and so are not mine. Also I do not own the Cinderella concept or any characters from Final Fantasy.**

**Please review so I know you guys still enjoy it. I attempted to bring sarcasm into the story, so I hope it pays off.**

**Enjoy!****

* * *

**

**Chapter Two**

My fingers ached from the weight of the tray that rested atop the tips of my fingers. Two flights of stairs separated the kitchen from the bedrooms of my sister and her friends followed by a long corridor, making my journey all the more tedious.

With hands and arms occupied I had to knock on the door with my foot. Years of practice enabled me to balance on one foot with three trays full of food and hair falling in front of my face. They say you learn a new thing everyday. In my case, it was tricks belonging to a performance monkey.

Moments passed and I still had no response from the occupant. My eyes stared boredly at the door, waiting to be granted access. Not that it was much of a bother to me. It wasn't my bacon that was getting cold.

Large French windows rested at the end of the wide landing. Heavy velvet curtains, smoothed to perfection, hung limp at the sides. By their position they were entirely an element of fashion than of any use. The heatless sun that was slowly ascending into the sky shone directly through the glass and into my eyes.

"Come in."

The voice was muffled, but the drawling tone reached my hearing nonetheless, telling me that life existed within. Damn.

Skilfully I raised my leg to open the door handle with my foot. Another trick of the household monkey. I pushed the door open with my back.

"Your late," the voice emerged from the bed opposite. It was heavy with sleep but still maintained an ability to send a crawl down my spine. I could think of a million voices I would rather hear to begin my day than hers.

Delicately I placed he tray down on her lap; she shifted as I did. Out of courtesy for me? Hardly, she simply recoiled from the thought of my hand touching her through the blankets.

Her covers dropped down to her waist and I was reminded of my own upstairs. The ones that lay sprawled across my bed, the same bed that was the resting place of my hopes and dreams. The bed that would by now be shrouded in a coverlet of chilling air, having been touched by the hand of frost. Great choice; room of ice or Medusa in the morning.

"I never had a defined time, so technically–"

"Shut up! You were not told to speak."

Scarlet's hand went to her head and a woeful sigh escaped her lips. Smiling being to much of a temptation I turned away and unceremoniously yanked the curtains open.

"Too much wine?" I asked.

"It's not my fault I'm a desired commodity within the town."

"Yeah, I hear escorts are hard to find lately."

I mumbled my words so that they wouldn't be heard. Small acts of defiance are tolerable but experience had taught me where the line was and what happened when I crossed it. Looking out of the window I saw people beginning to mill around town, beyond the gates of our house. Set upon a low rising hill we had a little view leverage and the old town church spire was clearly visible. The wind meter glistened underneath the beads of melting frost. It had been two weeks since I had visited the chapel and I longed to feel the security of the stone walls. While inside I also felt a closer connection to my father.

My thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sound of footsteps running quickly down the landing. A mental clock began ticking in my head,

"Three, two, one … "

"Scarlet!"

Bingo.

"Tifa, you lazy girl. Can't you tear your eyes away from the stupid sky for five second to bring us our breakfast? I'm famished!"

Elena stormed into the room, ranting loudly with Shera following in her wake. Shera didn't talk half as much as Elena, usually just following and glaring at me, which suited me fine. I didn't have to see the looks that were sent my way but blocking my ears was a harder task.

Impulsively the lids of my eyes closed tight, blocking out the sun light and for a few brief seconds I prepared myself for the day of servitude that lay ahead. I could occasionally managed to get away with some cheek towards Scarlet but any wrong move against Elena or Shera, oddly was not tolerated, and would result in some form of punishment. Normally this would be an extension of tasks or taking over the stable 'boys' job.

A deliberate cough resonated behind me. Ruefully my eyes opened and I turned.

"Sorry Elena, Shera, for the inconvenience."

"You should be-"

"I said I was."

My curtness was responded to with a raised eyebrow from Scarlet, and pouting looks from the two friends, seemingly mentally urging her to reprimand me. Just because I shouldn't doesn't always mean I won't.

My eyes flickered between the three, waiting. I did not truly believe that Scarlet saw Elena and Shera as her friends but rather gullible followers she could control. They were both five years younger than Scarlet but still two years senior to me. Though nineteen myself I might as well had the status of a nine year old in that house.

My gaze held that of Scarlet who's dark eyes continued to contemplate me as a farmer might contemplate if a particular pig is to be slaughtered that day. It's always nice to have your family associate you with a pig. Makes you feel special.

Seconds ticked by. I could see the clock on the mantelpiece. I found myself restraining my eyes from glaring at the sky, forcing blame onto an unseen presence for the menial life I was forced to lead.

"You may go."

Scarlet's voice broke the silence and I wasted no time in heading towards the door.

"Oh and Tifa."

I stopped, but did not turn round. She knew I was listening, that would have to be enough.

"Next time, bring us some decent breakfast, if you want to keep your own. Your list of duties I gave to Vincent last night. Get them done quickly, me and the girls are having some guests round tonight."

The starvation threat; that was hardly a new device. It was however in reality, effective. But that wasn't what had caught my attention and made my head twitch an inch. Company? Here, in the house? Ever since my father died, Scarlet had been adamant about keeping people away, so her change of action did not make sense. However, even if I asked questions I would get no answers so giving a curt nod I walked out of the door and headed towards my own room. Did I mention that servitude sucks?

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**Ok, let me quickly explain about Shera being one of the little friends. Basically I ran out of women. There's no other explanation for that one. **

**Hope you all got my escort joke :p**

**RHM**


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